Experiment
by next-muffin
Summary: I don't ship Creek, at least as a sexual relationship. If I did, it would probably look like this. One-shot cracktastic PWP.


Tweek scratched his ass. "Gah! C-can't you be more careful with those? They're gonna get everywhere and get stuck to our skin then cockroaches will invade the bed and burrow through our pores and lay eggs in our bodies and eat us from the inside! I can't be a cockroach incubator, that's too much pressure!"

Craig stopped chewing, letting a few crumbs fall down from his lips, bouncing off of his shirt onto the bed they were tangled together on. Craig had called Tweek over to watch a movie - Mean Girls, which neither had seen - and kept a steady eye on Tweek's posture, which had started off in a rigid, up-right fetal position, and had slowly smoothed out into a more relaxed, trusting curve under Craig's outstretched arms. Craig never did anything to help Tweek feel more comfortable with the physical contact - he never felt like it, and it's not like it would've helped, anyway, probably hurt more - but he did love the slowly-increasing pressure of Tweek's body against his own. It felt loving, sincere, one of the few situations that wouldn't warrant sarcasm or a middle finger.

"You don't like the crumbs? Oh. Sorry." Craig went back to chewing his toast. It was multigrain bread, with the crusts kept on, toasted to a very light crisp. Usually he preferred darker toast, especially with rye bread, which came out tasting more like a giant crouton, but today he was in the mood for condiments, which warranted a lighter toast. Dark toasts were valued for their crispy dryness, and condiments - especially jelly - took away from that. So instead of the delicious crunch, you'd just get soggy burnt bread, which wasn't delicious at all. So you had to pair condiments with lighter toasts, which would produce bread that wouldn't overpower the condiment, but provide enough of a crunch to add a little bit of texture to an otherwise bland gelatinous substance.

"N-no I don't," Tweek responded, pausing before saying, "Gah! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to insult your toast, and then you'll think I'm insulting you, and you'll think I hate you, but I don't, and then you'll hate me back, and— gah!" Tweek jumped at the presence of Craig's hand on his.

"Why are you freaking out?" In the tradition of Craig's phonology, it was more of a statement than a question, but nevertheless Tweek provided an answer: a mile-a-minute rant on how anxiety-inducing Mean Girls was, starting from Cady touching a leopard cub to the trio of new friends skipping class.

"Oh. Okay." Craig turned off the TV, and continued with, "Well. We could just fuck, then."

"Wait! Gah! No! We can't do that! If we have sex, we'll get pregnant and DIE! And we don't have any condoms or rubber bands and I can't get pregnant, if I can't be a cockroach incubator than I certainly can't be a baby incubator, that's way too much pressure, I need coffee, gah!"

"What? You can't get pregnant. We're both boys. With penises."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Tweek released the clump of blanket fabric he had been twisting and kneading nervously in his lap. "So, uh, gah!, how do we do this?" Tweek looked down to see the wrinkled but released blanket covered with a thin coat of short blond hairs.

"You just. I don't know. You just do it." Craig shuffled away from Tweek, giving him more room to spread both his arms and his legs outwards, as more surface area for Tweek.

Tweek hesitantly reached out a hand, making contact with Craig's bare chest. When he verified that Craig's chest was solid and he wouldn't punch a hole, or worse, phase right through, Tweek reached out his other hand, one on each of Craig's pecs. He moved them around in what he thought was a seductive way, covering more area and going faster and faster as he reveled in the heat of the friction. His fingers bumped over Craig's scraggly chest hair, and Tweek wondered about possible lice and fleas and motes that could be hiding in the hair and now migrating quickly to his hands, but then he remembered that Craig is a boy, not a dog, and probably didn't have anything that.

So that took care of his hands, but what about his feet? He was still sitting crosslegged, not touching Craig other than where his hands were running over his body. Maybe Craig was upset that Tweek wasn't making use of his other limbs? That Tweek was nervous or a prude or didn't really like him as much as he really did, but what could he do with his feet? Awkwardly, he rocked back and forth, wrapping his legs around Craig's waist and somehow removing his underpants - one of his last pairs - in the process, attempting to tickle Craig's back with his toes. That was sexy, right? People liked feet?

But the question still remained of their genitalia.

Tweek looked down at their penises, both growing slowly but still separate. He knew he needed to do something with it. But what, he had no idea. Put it somewhere, sure, but where? Craig said that he would just know, and he's supposed to work at trusting Craig more anway, so… Tweek closed his eyes, deciding to just thrust forward, letting his penis guide him to where it's supposed to go.

"Ow."

Tweek opened his eyes again. He had - well, there was only one word for it, penis-butted Craig. He had jammed his own penis into Craig's, head-to-head, and now they were both red and throbbing, and Craig probably thought that Tweek was a noob, or worse, aggressive in bed, and he knew that, besides condoms, which neither of them had, consent was the most important thing in sex, and Tweek didn't ask to penis-butt Craig, so Craig probably is going to accuse him of sexual harassment and the panda will come and take him away and put him in jail, and "Gah! I don't want to die and rot in jail!" Tweek finally shrieked, to Craig's confusion.

"What? It's okay. You missed. It's supposed to go here." Craig pointed to his anus.

Craig leaned back once more, and Tweek realized, horrified, that that meant Craig was now sitting on his anus. Where Tweek couldn't reach.

As Craig seemed to be idly staring off into space, Tweek tried angling himself horizontally, hoping that perhaps he could find a way to wedge his penis under Craig's ass, and sort of feel around for Craig's anus with his penis. But it was awfully dark under Craig. What if he got his penis stuck under Craig and then Craig fell asleep and he was trapped? Or if he did reach his anus but it was actually a black hole and then he would be sucked in, just like their class hamster was, and he would have to climb his way out through Craig's intestines, but that wouldn't work because he gets lost so easily, and besides he's the same size as Craig, so if he tried to go through his intestines, he would just make Craig explode, and even if Craig's anus black hole managed to shrink him down to manageable size to move through Craig's intestines, he might not go back to normal once he escapes, and he'd be tiny forever and then someone would step on him and no one would be able to find the body because they'd all think he's an ant or something and he'd be lost forever.

Looking up, Tweek realized he had backed up to the edge of the bed, and was once again covered in loose blond hairs. Craig was staring at him, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"Uh, I was thinking," Craig said after a moment, "You wanna just go do laundry instead? I could make us some crouton toast."

Tweek blinked a few times and sniffed. "T-that would be nice," he stammered, and went to go put his pants back on, his hands vibrating a tiny bit less than usual.


End file.
